Shock and Awe

I am an American, white, heterosexual woman who has worked tirelessly to advance my education (achieving bachelor's and master's degrees), to advance significantly in my career, to raise two children alone, and perhaps most importantly...to come to believe that I deserve to be treated with respect and justice, and to insist on nothing less.

After learning of the U.S. Presidential election results around 3 a.m., I struggled to find my way to a peaceful state of mind that would allow sleep to come.  My thoughts and emotions are running rampant, and I'm trying to organize them into something coherent that I can put into words.  This is my attempt.

While I've come to believe that all politicians are corrupt on some level, I do expect any president of the United States to be poised, diplomatic, and to reflect honorable principles of living in his or her words and deeds. Principles inform policies, which create a snowball effect that impacts people's ability to have dignity, freedom, and respect.

But the words, actions, and choices I have observed from Donald Trump have quite often been derogatory, insulting, and oppressive to me and to many others.  In 2016, I thought it was no longer socially acceptable to exhibit hatred toward an entire demographic of people.  Oh, I'm well aware it still exists, it's just no longer acceptable to blatantly express it, at least not in the part of the state/country where I live!  But apparently I was fooling myself by thinking the number of people with those feelings was shrinking and slowly being replaced by a more inclusive, bridge-building, diversity-honoring mentality.  

For me, a person's core being is a fusion of their morals and principles of living, and that core being informs their decisions and behaviors.  Period.  That is why today I feel shock and fear.  I'm hit with the undeniable realization that many of the people I interact with every day felt inclined to boost a person with these principles into the ultimate position of power.   

I saw a social media post happily proclaiming that "'We the People' have spoken." My immediate next thought was the realization that, yes, we the people have spoken.  We have exercised our right to vote and for our opinions to matter.  We have chosen Trump.  We also chose Barabbas.  What do I mean by that?  Check out Matthew 27, Mark 15, Luke 23, or John 18 in a Bible, and I think you'll see that I mean sometimes we make huge mistakes we regret for generations, so much so that our ancestors cannot fathom how we could have felt so strongly about something so wrong.  I suspect this will be one of those moments in time.  I hope and pray I am wrong.  

The Plans I Have for You

This framed photo sits in the foyer of my home.  I pass it every day.  Most days, I don't truly see it.  Last night I did, and it stopped me cold in my tracks.  I was struck by how small the kids look, how much younger I was.  It was 11 1/2 years ago, and it was my first Mother's Day post-divorce.  He was 1 1/2 and she was 4.  Life seemed overwhelming, to put it mildly.  The image I'd had of how my life would turn out was clouded by reality.  I was doing this alone now.  Simple things like getting all of us ready in the morning, getting myself to work on time, and going to the grocery store were now major undertakings.

I was flipping through a catalog when I saw this frame, and it immediately brought me to tears.  A plan for me?  Plans to prosper me?  Plans for my future?  It was almost more than I could bear to hear  - such words of hope and promise when I felt so alone and scared.  Those verses became an anchor for my life.  

I wanted God's plan to include finding a good, strong, responsible, moral man whom I could love, and who would love my children and I.  And though I was engaged once, I have never remarried.  

I could look at the picture on that frame and the inscribed verse and say that God's promises don't hold true.  But that would be short-sighted.  God has prospered me.  My hard work and God-given talent have been rewarded in the workplace, and I've been able to provide for my children, keep our home, and even add two pets to our family.  I have been harmed many times, in life-changing ways.  But God did not harm me.  He never promised we would go through this life without pain.  I have learned, however, to turn to him as the ultimate comforter.  I am working on talking and listening to Him as the co-parent absent from my home.  It's hard.  Sometimes I want immediate answers, or better yet, someone to take the reins while I scream into my pillow or take my hand when I'm feeling weary.  

Lately, I've been feeling frequent anxiety and sadness over the empty nest years that aren't too far around the corner.  Revisiting the message and the image in this frame reminds me that I am not alone.  There is still a plan for me.  There is a plan for them.  There is hope.  I'm holding two armfuls of it in this photo and forever in my heart and in my soul.  

Your Absence

It wasn't intentional, I didn't plan things this way.  But almost a year later, I can clearly see the way I isolated myself after you died.  For a brief period, I reached out to others, intentionally trying to fill my time and my thoughts.  But that quickly subsided, and I came to find safety in isolation.  Spending time with anyone else only brought you to my mind, and everyone suffered in comparison because they weren't you.  Of course they weren't you.  No one could ever be you.  Loved ones tell me to call up some friends and make plans.  Oh I do occasionally.  But most of the time my phone sits silent, and I busy myself with my career, my children, and all of my adult responsibilities.

I recognize it now, and yet I'm not sure I'm compelled to change it.  It reminds me of a bad breakup, of which I've had one too many.  The high of being in love and the low of a broken heart.  It can paralyze you and scare you away from taking another chance and risking another disappointment and that unbearable hurt.  So it is with friendship.  You were my soulmate, as much as a friend can be a soulmate.  With you, I was understood.  I was loved.  We laughed.  We dove deep into our souls and allowed each other to see the beautiful and ugly parts of ourselves.  If I never have a friendship like that again, I'll remain grateful for the 16 years I had with you.

I see pictures of best friends on social media and sometimes have to shut it down and just cry and mourn your absence.  You were my go-to girl, my plus one, my confidante, my sounding board.  You were there when so many others were fleeting and transient.  

I know darn well you would want me to continue to invest in other friendships.  It almost makes it worse knowing that I'm doing the opposite of what you would want for me.  I'm peppering friends in here and there.  You're just a really tough act to follow.  So the curtain stays closed, the lights down.  Sometimes healing and grief just take a long while.  

Alone in a New Chapter

My ex-husband and I separated before our son was one year old.  I've been a single mom for almost 12 years.  The first night I was alone, I remember thinking how on earth am I going to get 2 children ready and get to work on time?  I got up 45 minutes earlier than usual.  Mind you - my son couldn't stand or walk, never mind dress or feed himself.  My daughter was 3, but still needed heavy "coaching" to dress and feed herself.

Now I find myself the parent of a 15 year old and 12 year old.  It's like a whole new journey. I have given so much, thought and planned so much, worked so hard, sacrificed endless things, and tried so very hard to be all the parent that they need.  My custody arrangement went from almost 50/50 to 95/5.  It's a thankless job at many times, and that's tough to take.  Teens will be teens, they will say hurtful things, be selfish, and break your heart right in two.  It's hard not to take it personally.

Over the years, there have been lots of ups and downs.  I'm blessed that my parents are nearby and very committed to helping me however and whenever they can.  I've had 3 serious relationships in 12 years that eventually gave me a confidante, helping hands, and someone to talk to about my parenting struggles.  Just nothing that was worth my return on investment, and all became liabilities rather than assets, so I wrapped them up and cut my losses.It's hard to not have a co-parent to talk to about it, to "talk me off the ledge" when needed and to validate my efforts and encourage me to persevere.  On the positive side, it's forced me to lean on God more and more - which is the way it always should have been.  It's just hard because I can't always discern or hear God's response.  I don't know when I'm headed down the right road.  

At times, all I can do is hope and pray that someday they will see and appreciate all that I did for them, to keep them clothed and fed, to keep them in the same home they've always known, to bring them smiles and wipe their tears, and to encourage them to be good citizens, good Christians, and to be true to themselves.  I guess that's all that any parent can do - single or not.